An Honest Mistake
by Crysania
Summary: An anonymous user on Tumblr prompted: Could I prompt another remix of Well that was Awkward where Belle thinks that Rumple and Jefferson are together? This is a remix of "Well That Was Awkward" and "Never Ever Again."


She's not been at the castle very long, really. Certainly not well enough to know her employer, though she finds herself continually intrigued by him. He's quick to anger, but also quick to silly quips. His mood changes rapidly and she's always kept on her toes. In an odd sort of way she enjoys it. She's not sure that Rumplestiltskin would understand that. But there was something to be said for mysteries, for things to figure out and research.

And she _does_ research. He's given her a library after all. Plenty of books to dig in and things to find out. Even if most of it doesn't tell her _too_ much about the Dark One.

She thinks little of the man who drops by on her third week in the castle. He stops dead in his tracks when he finds her sweeping the main hall, his eyes flitting over to Rumplestiltskin for a moment. He's dressed flamboyantly, at least as much as her employer, with a large top hat, ruffles, lace. She's never _seen_ a man dressed so outlandishly before.

"Why Rumple, you didn't tell me you had company?" he says and she's not sure if he's annoyed or amused.

"She's not company," Rumplestiltskin growls at the man. "Can't you see that she's the _maid_?'

Belle just gives the man a helpless look and shrugs her shoulders.

"Why do you need a maid?" the man asks. "You have magic."

Rumplestiltskin growls something incoherent and waves a hand. The two disappear in a puff of smoke and Belle is left alone to continue her chores.

The man has a point though.

One she wonders about quite frequently.

Why does the greatest sorcerer in all the land need a _maid_?

The flamboyantly-dressed man keeps coming back over the next weeks. Sometimes he's there every other day, sometimes he disappears for a week before returning. He always comes with _something_. Once it's a crystal ball and Rumplestiltskin gives a tittering noise she didn't think anyone was capable of before they disappear. Another time it's some odd bit of fabric and Rumplestiltskin seems annoyed.

They always go off alone.

They always leave her.

And she's left to wonder, really. Why do they conduct their business in private? The others who come to the castle get treated to Rumplestiltskin's particular brand of weirdness right in the main hall. She's watched him giggle and prance and taunt and push at people until he gets what he wants time and time again.

It's only this one man, equally as flamboyant and odd as Rumplestiltskin, who he takes to the Gods know where in the castle and does the Gods knows what with.

She continues her research over the next few months. She finds out the man's name is Jefferson. Rumplestiltskin calls him _The Mad Hatter_ with a flourish of his hand. Jefferson bows low at that. She thinks the nickname is ridiculous though she does note the hat never leaves the man's head and he really does seem off in some way.

He always gives her looks. She can't interpret them. But she's looked up to find him watching her, his head cocked slightly to the side, before Rumplestiltskin snarls something incoherent and drags the man off.

Rumplestiltskin clearly doesn't like them attempting to speak to one another and she cannot help wondering _why_. Why this man? He allows her to speak to the others who come, sometimes serving them tea, sometimes entertaining them while he's "held up" with something. Making them wait is a game to Rumplestiltskin and he uses her to good effect in those cases.

But not this man…this Jefferson. He never waits. He strolls into the castle like he owns the place and Rumplestiltskin drops everything to rush off with him. She can't quite understand what it is that's going on there until she's upstairs cleaning one of the hallways sometime after Jefferson's appearance and their subsequent disappearance.

She doesn't overhear much. Just Jefferson's voice… _I knew you were in love_. And then she scampers off. It's a private conversation. She doesn't need to hear it. She doesn't need to know who he loves, though she has her suspicions.

But then…it makes sense, she realizes. In an odd sort of way. Her research has never pointed her to the Dark One ever having a wife, a lover, a paramour of any sort. He's been alive as long as anyone can remember, hundreds of years, maybe even thousands. There are legends about him, about his ending the First Ogres War, about the deals he makes. But there is nothing spoken of his personal life.

If his proclivities run counter to the standard, well, he might have kept that hidden.

Which would explain why Jefferson disappears with him every chance he gets.

It's late one night after Jefferson has left and Rumplestiltskin has taken up an unusual spot, sitting in front of the fire, staring into its depths. He looks…sad…somehow. And she wonders if he misses Jefferson when he flits off.

She comes to stand behind him and places one hand on his shoulder. He tenses, leans forward, away from her touch. "You don't have to hide it, you know," she says.

He whips around then and his eyes are wide, wider than she's ever seen them. His pupils are almost entirely blown out in the dim light.

"Hide?" The word comes out on a bit of a squeak.

"I know." She gives him a small smile. _I know. It's ok_. "Your secret is safe with me, I promise."

She watches him swallow hard. Maybe she shouldn't have pushed him. Maybe she should have feigned ignorance while watching the two of them with knowing eyes.

"I…" He starts to say, then pauses. One hand is making a weird spinning motion in the air. "You know?" He says the last carefully, eyes slightly narrowed.

"I do," she confirms. "I overheard something." She raises her hands quickly, before he can get angry with her. "It was an accident. I was in the hallway cleaning. I left as quickly as I could, but it was too late."

She sees the color change slightly on his cheeks. A blush. The Dark One could blush. Well, that was something her research didn't tell her. She wasn't sure he was capable of such a human thing, though she guesses that if he can love someone, he was as human as she was. Even if his skin was covered in scales and his eyes were more reptilian than human.

"You…" He can't get much further than that. The spinning motion of his hand increases. She hates seeing him so agitated.

"I'm sorry I found out." She frowns. "But please don't worry." She reaches out and touches his hand. The spinning motion stops under her touch, but his eyes slide away from hers. "I know. And I approve."

He looks up at her then and his head cocks just slightly to the side. There's a small lop-sided grin forming and she can't help but smile back. He reaches down and takes both her hands in his, holding them up, close to him.

"You approve?" His voice is soft, perhaps the most human she's ever heard it. There's a hesitancy there that she finds just a little bit charming. She's sure that he knows the rest of the world wouldn't approve of such a thing and she suspects he would have expected her scorn.

"Yes. Of course." She smiles than and he squeezes her hands. It's a quiet moment, a sweet one.

Then he moves forward, quickly, faster than she could have anticipated. His lips are on hers and his arms are around her. She opens her mouth to protest, to push back, and his mouth slants across hers as he deepens the kiss.

And it's a lovely kiss. Without thinking about it, the hands that were pushing back go up and tangle in his hair. It's soft, the curls wrapping nicely around her fingers.

When he breaks off the kiss, he presses his forehead against hers for a moment. "Oh, Belle," he whispers before leaning back and meeting her eyes.

She blinks once. Twice. "I don't understand," she murmurs.

He shakes his head. "Don't understand what?"

"Jefferson…" She can't quite get full sentences out, the force of his kiss addling her brain and warming her right to her toes. Or her groin, at least. She won't pretend she hasn't noticed the way those tight leather trousers fit him.

"What about him?" There's an honest confusion in the words and Belle suddenly feels cold.

"I thought you and he…"

"Oh Gods," Rumplestiltskin replies with and pushes away from her. "You thought…"

"Yes," she answers quickly. She doesn't need to say the words.

"And so this…Oh Gods," he says again and his eyes can't even meet hers. His face is even redder now, scales quickly changing color the more he thinks about what has just happened.

"It was an honest mistake?" Belle says and can't help the way the words curl up at the end, the way it's more a question than statement.

"I…"

And then she realizes something. "But if it wasn't Jefferson…"

Rumplestiltskin shrinks back, turns away.

If it wasn't Jefferson…

And he kissed _her_ …

Then…

"It's _me_?"

He cringes at her words, like a scared and wounded animal. And then he turns to walk away. She's surprised he doesn't just disappear like he usually does. He certainly has the capability. But instead he scampers off, attempting to rush from the room.

"Rumplestiltskin…wait…"

She's not even sure what to say. She hasn't sat down and taken the time to explore her own feelings for her enigmatic employer. Why would she, after all? He was _involved_ with someone. She never could have imagined he was harboring feelings for _her_ and Jefferson was…what?...a confidante of sorts?

It was all so sudden, so shocking.

And yet…

She realizes it also feels _right_. That the kiss felt right. She'd been kissed only once before in her life. It was a messy thing of wet lips and gross thick tongue and all she wanted to do was get away from it when it was happening. But that is not the case here. Not at all. She had been drawn in, left wanting when he finally wrenched away from her.

"I'm sorry." His words are almost deafening in the silence that surrounds them.

"There's nothing to apologize for," she says quickly.

He says nothing, just watches her as she approaches. His whole body is tense, his hands never quite stop moving, his eyes are wide and he's bent just slightly backward, as if he could flee at any moment.

She puts a hand on his arm, soft, tentative. "I…" Now it's her turn to falter. How does one tell her employer, the _Dark One_ , that she _liked it_ , and would quite enjoy trying it out again sometime? She bites her lip and hears Rumplestiltskin let out a strangled groan. "I…quite liked it."

Another sound escapes him and then doesn't the bloody bastard just disappear. No smoke, nothing. He's there one moment and the next she's staring at an empty space.

And then she finds _herself_ growling in frustration. With a sigh she settles down on the chair near the fire. She'll give him a little time to digest what just happened and then go find him. There's a lot to talk about.

And hopefully there are more kisses in their future, as well.


End file.
